outside is that the squawk of the seagull and the sound of the sea? is it the soft descent of night into the longer distance out at the edges, the way that we lean ourselves against things, all the time. the way that there are things there to catch us. against the heavy weight of blankets and the condensing of breath as it breathes across the night, i am filled with things i am forgetting all the time, filled with memories i can't remember until i am here, in this room, my head against your chest and listening to this song. i am learning to fall again, and i fall into everything.